


unravelling

by kiyala



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, Community: angst_bingo, M/M, Not Taking Medication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 05:43:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a while since Newton's taken his meds. Hermann begins to notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unravelling

There's too much noise. Newt taps the fingers of one hand against the benchtop of his workstation while using the other to increase the volume on his stereo. Louder, louder, it drowns out the noise in his head and it has the added bonus of drowning Hermann's yelling out too until—

Silence.

Hermann's standing there holding the plug in one hand. Newt sees red.

" _Hermann_ , how many times—"

" _How many times_ ," Hermann interrupts, "must I tell you not to blast your terrible music so loudly that the entire lab shakes?"

Newt grips the edge of his bench with both hands, reminding himself that he has to calm down, that if he doesn't pull himself back in, someone's going to take notice, and they're going to force him back on his meds. It's difficult.

He throws a pen at the back of Hermann's head. It's better than the textbook he was considering. Better than the time he'd been kicked out of a lab for pushing a trolley full of glass beakers and test tubes into someone for looking at his results when he wasn't ready to share them.

Hermann doesn't argue back. Newt calls him a name under his breath and forgets it immediately, focusing his attention on the Kaiju he's dissecting. After a moment, the stereo comes back on, at a lower volume. He doesn't thank Hermann for it.

It gets harder and harder to ignore the noise in his head and he walks away from his workstation sometimes, just so he can wander around the Shatterdome for a while. Hermann's always there when he returns, no matter how late the hour, scribbling equations onto his sliding chalkboards and muttering under his breath. Newt's stereo will still be playing and when Hermann notices that Newt is back, they'll squabble about it, about the fact that Newt's abandoning his work to go on walks, about anything and everything. Hermann will get back to his work and Newt will be able to get back to his, for a while.

The amount of time for which he can actually concentrate keeps dropping and Newt knows that eventually, he's not going to be able to concentrate at all and he's not going to finish any of the work he needs to do. The thought is terrifying and makes him want to panic. He laughs to himself, sharp and shaky, and that's when he knows that this is getting bad.

Hermann finds him in the lab the next day, pulling one of his unused Kaiju organ containers apart, a half-formed idea in his mind about making his own, rougher version of the Pons, from what he knows about the technology behind Drifting. 

"What _are_ you doing?"

Newt doesn't reply, dismantling the machine, cords lying all over the floor. He knows how much Hermann hates being ignored and suddenly, it's the funniest thing in the world. He stops what he's doing, so he can hold his head in his hands and laugh. The panicked voice at the back of his mind tells him that he's gone too far, that there's no possible way he's going to get out of this without Hermann and everyone else realising exactly what is wrong. Hermann's going to tell, because why _wouldn't_ he? And everything's going to fall apart, and maybe everything already _has_ fallen apart because he can't focus, he can hardly keep still, and he can't stop laughing about the whole thing. 

"Newton." Hermann's voice is gentle, though his grip on Newt's shoulder is firm. "Newton, listen to me. _Listen_. When is the last time you took your medication?"

Newt pushes him away. "Screw you, man. I'm not on meds."

"Yes, well, that is evident enough, but we both know you _should_ be. How long?"

"I really don't want to say."

" _Newton_."

"Okay, okay. A week. Possibly two. Don't make me take them, Hermann, I hate it. I never get anything done." Just like he's not getting anything done now either. It's a lose-lose situation, no matter what. He hates his meds and he hates the way he gets without them and it makes him want to curl in on himself and give up, but that's the last thing he's going to let himself do.

"Newton," Hermann says, sounding extraordinarily patient, for him. Newt realises he's been thinking out loud.

"Come on." Hermann gets to his feet and offers Newt a hand. "Up. You're showing me where you keep your medication. You'll—you'll feel better when you can focus. And you're taking the rest of the day off."

"I can't—Hermann, you can't tell them what's wrong. I've spent this long making sure the psych division doesn't find out—"

"Calm down, I won't say anything you don't want me to, regardless of how much of a bad decision I think that is." Hermann nudges Newt's foot with his cane. "If they ask, you've got a cold from dancing about in the rain when your most recent Kaiju specimen arrived."

"I wasn't _dancing_ ," Newt protests, and laughs quietly. "No, no, I totally was. Can you blame me, though? Specimens are _exciting_."

"And you hadn't been taking your medication then, either."

"Funny, right?" Newt asks as Hermann steers him out of the lab and towards their rooms, with a firm grip on his arm. "The things you get away with when people assume you're _eccentric_. You know my personnel file says I've got a borderline manic personality? That's not even the half of it."

"Then what is?" Hermann asks. "The half of it. Or the full of it, if you will."

Newt shakes his head. Hermann, thankfully, doesn't push. He walks Newt to the door of his room and stands there, shaking his head at the Kaiju posters but not saying a word. Newt digs the two bottles out from underneath a pile of clothes in the suitcase he's never quite unpacked, and holds them up for Hermann, rattling them,

"Here. Happy?"

Hermann doesn't reply. It's not until Newt's taken them and thanked science for quick-release medication that the pressure in his head finally eases. Hermann is watching him with what could almost be called concern.

"I was diagnosed with ADHD as a kid," Newt says at length.

"Yes, I'd gathered as much—"

"Would you just let me talk?" This feels more like their usual bickering, without the irrational, white-hot rage underneath. It's better. "I've got the hyperactive, impulsive kind. Yeah, I know. Big surprise, you called it. So when I was a kid, they figured they'd medicate it because otherwise, I wouldn't shut up and I wouldn't sit still. Except, do you know what those kinds of meds do to a kid with mild bipolar?"

"…Oh." Hermann frowns. "Oh dear."

" _Oh dear_ ," Newt echoes, laughing. "Yeah. That's one way of putting it. So I learned as a teenaegr that meds were complete bullshit and probably did more harm than good, just about the same time I learned that I really, really needed them."

"So you hid it from everyone," Hermann prompts. 

"Yeah. I mean, I was switched onto these new meds a while back that _don't_ use stimulants, but switching over was pretty horrible too. I guess it's better than how it was before, when with or without my meds, it just felt like I couldn't think and if I couldn't think, I couldn't be _useful_ , and what's even the _point_ —"

"Well," Hermann interrupts. "I do hope you realise that's not the case, now."

Newt raises an eyebrow. "Did you just call me _useful_?"

"Well—your research." Hermann coughs. "It _has_ allowed for the significant improvement of Jaeger weaponry."

"Right," Newt says, "the reason they keep me around, despite everything else."

"You've made a _difference_ ," Hermann tells him. "That is why they keep you around."

"That's as close as we're going to get to you actually saying it. I'm _useful_!" Newt crows, and it makes a few passing engineers raise their eyebrows at him.

"And there we are," Hermann mutters. "Medicated, but eccentric."

"We're going back to the lab, Hermann. We've got work to do, science to make."

"I don't think that's advisable—"

Newt's already shutting his door and walking back to the lab. He waits a moment, listening careflly, and grins when he hears the tap of Hermann's cane behind him.


End file.
